


the shadows kept me hidden from the light that called my name

by toushindai (WallofIllusion)



Category: Baccano!
Genre: F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9800441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallofIllusion/pseuds/toushindai
Summary: Claudia and Illness escape from a momentary intrusion into their world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A response to the prompt “Here, take my hand. Everything is fine, just hold onto me and keep moving.”  
> Warnings for: emetophobia, and a non-POV-character flashback.

Claudia sees Illness go green before she hears the chanting.

Or no, that’s not quite true—she hears the chanting first, but it’s just one more sound in the bustle of the city. They’ve finished the on-location shots for her newest film so she and Illness are exploring. It’s almost like a date, but subtle enough to evoke gossip from the paparazzi.

It’s supposed to be _fun_.

But when Illness hears the chanting through the open door of a nearby church, she stops dead in the middle of the street. Her hands come up to her mouth and Claudia sees her taking shallow breaths of air to fight the nausea obvious on her face. Her eyes aren’t focused on anything.

“Illness?” Claudia scans their surroundings so that she can offer real reassurance. There, on the cathedral steps: old men dressed in pure white, solemnly waving a censer of incense as they chant in Latin. No mottled red and black and no stomach-dropping, unflappable smiles. Those things aren’t allowed in Claudia’s world anymore. Claudia puts her hand on Illness’s shoulder and rests it there gingerly, careful not to grab. “It’s okay, Illness,” she reassures her girlfriend in a low, soothing voice. “It’s not them.”

“C—Claudia—” Wide eyes make their way to Claudia’s face. “I—They’re—”

“They’re not going to do anything to you. I promise. They can’t get you anymore.”

“But _I_ …” There’s guilt in Illness’s voice, and she shakes under Claudia’s touch. Her gaze begins to wander the area again, but Claudia thinks she’s probably not seeing anything that’s actually there. This happens sometimes. Something in Illness’s past tries to pull her out of Claudia’s world and back into a world of horrors and pain. A world where Illness has to suffer.

Illness is _not_ in that world anymore.

Claudia puts her hand over Illness’s carefully and leans close, placing herself between her girlfriend and the cathedral. “Illness, here, take my hand. Everything is fine, just hold onto me and keep moving.”

And that gets through to her—almost too well. Illness seizes Claudia’s hand in a sudden vise-grip, and she _runs_. It’s all Claudia can do to keep up. They dart through the crowd, they dash through the gates of a park, they run and run over paths and roped-off grass indiscriminately until they reach a brick building that contains the park’s restrooms. Illness pulls them into a stall, together, and locks the door. For a moment, all they do is try to catch their breaths. Then Illness begins to make little snuffling noises.

“Claudia,” she says, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I think I’m gonna be sick—”

“That’s okay,” Claudia reassures her. “I’ll hold your hair back?”

“N-No, you don’t—have to—”

Her voice goes strained and she turns abruptly, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet just in time. As she begins to throw up, Claudia kneels behind her and gathers her long, fluffy hair in a loose grip. She doesn’t grab. She rubs Illness’s back gently and speaks soothingly, quiet _I’m here_ s and _I love you_ s.

In the grimy half-light of the stall, Illness eventually stops retching. She rests her head and shoulders on the edge of the toilet, and Claudia hears teardrops fall into the water below with a soft _plik, plik_ as Illness cries. Claudia thinks it has to be unpleasant, sitting with her nose in the vomit-filled toilet bowl like that.

“Illness? Sit back for a second, okay? I’m gonna flush.”

Illness sniffles, but she does sit back for long enough for Claudia to pull the lever. The toilet gurgles and whooshes and whisks the vomit away. Illness leans her head on the toilet seat again once the water calms.

“’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Illness.”

“Yes I do,” the girl says thickly. “It’s dark and gross in here. ‘n now it smells bad too. You c’n go wait outside if you want, I’ll… um…”

She trails off and her shoulders begin to shake again with sobs. Claudia runs gentle fingers down her spine.

“I’ll c-come out in just a minute, okay? So d-d-don’t go away. I mean, y-you can go outside if you want, or you can leave, but I… I…”

“I want to stay here,” Claudia says.

Illness shakes her head, disbelieving. “It’s _gross_ in here. You should be out in the sun. It’s such a nice day and I _ruined_ it because I’m a _freak_ —”

“I want to be where you are, Illness. And you’re not a freak and you haven’t ruined anything. I wasn’t even thinking of coming to this park, but it’s such a pretty one! When you’re feeling better, we can take a walk through it! It’s so much nicer to walk on a dirt path than concrete sometimes, don’t you think?”

Languidly, Illness lifts her head to look at Claudia. Mascara drips down her face in mournful gray streaks and her lips droop with a frown.

“Claudia, I can’t… I c-can’t take it when you pretend.”

Claudia tilts her head. “Pretend what?”

“That you like being near me when I’m like this. I’m—I’m like a black cloud over the sun in your world! All the time! S-s-so you should just—I want—I’d rather that you g-go away and just let me be sad rather than trying so hard because at least then you’ll still want to be around me when I’m _happy_ —!”

She barely gets the last few words out before bursting into tears again.

For a long moment, Claudia sits paralyzed, unsure of what to do.

Illness isn’t like the characters in her movies. Not just because all the romances are between men and women, but because there’s no easy answer to the pain that weighs down on her. A walk in the park isn’t going to heal her trauma. Neither will slumber parties, board game nights, carefree days on set, dancing in the rain. Sometimes these things cheer Illness up, for a little while, but there’s no swelling of music over the climactic scene to indicate that things are Fixed Forever now. And as much as Claudia wishes it could be otherwise, they may never be Fixed Forever.

But if there’s nothing Claudia can do to fix things, at least she can still do what she wants to.

She reaches out a hand and wipes away the tears coursing down Illness’s face.

“Hey, Illness?”

A long sniffle. “Yeah?”

“Can I stick around if I promise _not_ to try to cheer you up?”

Illness looks at her, her lower lip trembling. “Wh-why would you… want that?” she asks.

“’Cause I want to be around you all the time. Whether you’re happy or not. I want you to stay a part of my world.” She smiles a little, sadly, and runs a hand over Illness’s hair. “If you need me to give you space, I’ll happily do that. But my desire to be near you isn’t some limited thing that you have to ration out. Okay? I love you, no matter how you feel.”

 “E-even when I feel… like this?” trickles out of Illness’s mouth, and then she winces away as though she’s afraid of the answer. But Claudia just takes her hand.

“Of course,” she promises.

“You really d-don’t have to.”

“But can I?”

Sniffling once more, Illness only nods. She lets Claudia pull her close and they sit together in the dirty little bathroom stall, and the magic of love—more powerful than any camera or special lighting—makes it warm and cozy until they’re ready for the sun again.

 


End file.
